


Give up the Ghost

by MostFacinorous



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ghosts, M/M, Magic, Magical Accidents, Magical Artifacts, Rating subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostFacinorous/pseuds/MostFacinorous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki accidentally summons the spirit of a strapping soldier to Asgard. How and why are something they're trying to figure out, but in the mean time, they're stuck with one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

He wasn’t  _ lonely _ . He didn’t get lonely. He’d developed an immunity to that a long time ago. 

He was  _ alone _ , certainly, but that was fine. It meant he could be left to his own devices, left to his notes and trials of various new uses for old magics, new ways of bending his power, new shapes to bend it into. 

He may not have been a fighter, but he more than made up for it with his abilities. It was just a matter of honing them.  
And that was what he was doing, the first time he created it. Called it. Summoned it. 

  
  


It was barely more than a shape, not solid at all, not firm… only a head and shoulders, wavering and flickering in the same way as his candle flames did, not fully formed, and the face was only recognizable  _ as  _ a face when it opened its eyes and began to thrash, to contort-- as though it was fighting the very air around it. A roaring sound accompanied it, and Loki could not tell where it came from.

He lost control, dropped the spell threads, and the creature collapsed and disappeared. 

  
  


One of the Einherjar, passing by in the hall, pounded on the door and cast a suspicious eye around his room when he answered, but Loki just grinned irritatingly and asked if the man-- Allfuer-- if he’d been drinking, perchance? He certainly, Loki explained, smelled enough like a tavern, all on his own.

He left in a huff, and Loki closed the door, his teasing smile falling away and his curiosity well and truly piqued. He made notes of what he’d been doing-- spells of memory and amplification, spells for transferring awareness. It was meant to be something to help him absorb information faster, a way of saving himself the time of reading and instead allow him to all but suck the knowledge from a book. 

That had been his intention. Instead, he’d somehow… summoned something. 

Perhaps some form of demon or sending. He wondered if he managed to get it to stop flailing, if it might have knowledge that he was meant to get from it. 

  
  


He resolved to try again. 

  
  


First, though, he needed to research ways of holding things that were summoned; maintaining the link while protecting oneself, and ways of making it strong enough to take its form, without being strong enough to break free of any confines he managed to create. 

 

It was almost four days before he was ready to give it another go. 

  
  


This time he made a specific space for the thing to appear, made a circle to hold it, so it would not escape, and lined the circle with stones imbued with energy, which it could draw on to better shape itself, to have the form-- and to hold it, once it did. 

He thought he was prepared. He’d armed himself with blades of both silver and iron, since he had no idea what, exactly, the thing was. And the energy in the stones was attached to him, that he could pull it back and take it away, if whatever the creature was turned out to be violent-- or worse,  _ stupid _ . 

He’d made provisions for everything that could go wrong, based on everything he’d read-- some of which had churned his stomach and haunted his dreams, but none of it had been able to dissuade him. Because nothing he read was at all like what he’d been doing. He’d done something new, and Loki never did anything halfway.

What he wasn’t counting on, though, was that when it appeared, it was a man.

And he was  _ handsome _ . 

The torso appeared first, the shoulders somehow improbably broader than they had been before, then the head, the legs a distant afterthought, which trailed out towards invisibility. He had them, certainly, but it wasn’t as though he intended to use them. 

The man panicked again, perhaps even more this time, since he was trapped in so small a space, but when he saw Loki, he stopped and seemed to draw himself up and inwards, his arms crossing over his chest. He was well muscled, and Loki found himself glad, under the power of that glare, that he had taken as many precautions as he had.

  
  


“ What is this?” The man demanded. 

“ I thought you might tell me.” Loki responded smoothly, stepping forward so that he did not look afraid. 

“ I have no idea.” The man told him frankly. “But if you’re with Hydra, you’re too late. It’s all gone.” 

Loki tilted his head, puzzled. 

“ I don’t know what hydra you speak of. You are in Asgard, and there have been no great serpents, no dragons, here for an eon.” 

“Asgard?” The man turned slowly, looking around, and tried to step away-- only to encounter the boundary that Loki had laid down. 

“ What-- Am I--” He looked down at himself and stiffened. “I’m trapped.” He said flatly. 

“ Yes.” Loki agreed easily, watching and amused by the man’s confusion. “I was unsure what you were, so I took precautions.”

“ I… think I’m dead.” The man said. His resignation was much less fun, and Loki’s brow arched in response. 

“ Dead? Then you are a spirit? I suppose that makes some sense… but why are you not in Hel?”

The spirit’s head jerked up, and he looked vaguely horrified. 

“ What do you-- Asgard and Hell? And I… do I not get to come to-- Am I  _ supposed  _ to have gone to Hell?” His words were strangled, and Loki’s brow furrowed.

“ I summoned you here. Twice now, if that was you before. I’m no authority on where you  _ should  _ be. I know only as much as the next living person about what lies beyond. Can I ask: where were you, before I called you here?” This entire thing was very strange, and it seemed the man bore very little in the way of knowledge. Loki considered withdrawing the power and considering it a failure, but he knew that leaving the mystery that the man posed unsolved would make him sleepless with the sense of unfulfillment. 

“ I-- I  _ have  _ been here before. Over there-- For a second--” He seemed distant, puzzling through something. But he did gesture at the area Loki had been in the first time, on the other side of his bed. “I remember… I guess dying. Then nothing. Then here, for a moment. Then… nothing. Then here again.” 

“ Odd.” Loki said lightly, unconcerned. “I do not know of any spirit that is not either tied to an artifact or in Valhalla or Hel. I wish you knew more, so that I could make note of where it is I am summoning you from.” He was a little disgruntled about that, in fact. 

“ Well, sorry to be a problem.” The man’s voice had turned snappish, and both of Loki’s eyebrows raised, at that. “I just found out I’m  _ dead _ .” The man said, and Loki was so taken with his indignation that he laughed. 

This, it turned out, was a poor response.

The man ground his teeth together, his jaw jutting, and turned to reach for the edge of the circle again-- this time, moving away from Loki. 

Loki’s laugh died as he felt the man’s will pushing at his own. 

“ Stop.” He commanded, voice firm and tinged with power. The man paused, probably mostly against his will. “What is your name?” Loki asked, attempting to be reasonable. 

“ What’s it to you?” The man shot back, and Loki puzzled through the words. 

“ I should have something to call you, if you mean to be here for a time-- unless you  _ want _ to go back to the nothing.” 

“No.” The word was pried through his teeth reluctantly, and the man seemed to color. Anger, Loki saw, was most becoming on him. 

“ Steve.” He said. “My name’s Steve.”

“ Welcome, Steve. I am Loki. I must go to dinner shortly, but I will allow you to continue existing here in the meantime. Afterwards, we will discuss what I am to do with you.” 

Steve’s mouth twisted, and he looked angry again. 

“ That’s it, huh? You’re just going to walk away and leave me here?” 

“ Try not to make too much noise. I doubt any who come in would understand, and they might damage the casting, somehow. Who knows what that would lead to. I won’t be gone long.”

“ Loki!” Steve called out as he turned away, clearly seething, and Loki sighed and returned. 

“ Let me make this very clear, Steve. You are here because I called you, you remain here because I am supplying you with the power to maintain your form. I am Prince of Asgard, and  _ must _ attend dinner. When I return after, I will speak further with you, but if I am late and the guards come, it is likely I will be commanded to destroy you. So unless you have a wish to return to the emptiness from whence you came, I would suggest you sit down, stay quiet, and relax for a few minutes. Meditate, perhaps. Have a nap. I don’t care.”

The man gritted his teeth, but seemed too angry to find the words to express it. Loki shrugged, then paused. 

“ I realize you are dead, but do you feel hunger?” 

Steve’s brows drew together. 

“ Uh… no? I don’t know.” 

“ I will bring some bread back with me. Perhaps we may find ways of experimenting.” 

He closed his door softly behind him just as Allfuer rounded the corner. 

“ I was sent to retrieve you, Prince Loki. her Majesty worries you will miss the first course.” His tone was carefully even, though it was perhaps just a little gruff. He’d not forgotten Loki’s slight from earlier, it seemed. Ah, well. 

“ Oh, I wouldn’t  _ dare _ ,” He responded, flippant. “After all, the nine to follow wouldn’t  _ possibly _ be enough for me to find my fill.” 

Allfuer rolled his eyes but held his tongue, and Loki’s estimation of the man rose. Most of the younger Einherjar took longer to realize they oughtn’t argue with him-- or even attempt to trade words. 

He trounced them in that arena as thoroughly as they would him, if he ever set foot in their training yards. 

But since he liked this one so much, he followed him back to the hall with little enough resistance, happy to smile sheepishly and claim he had been lost in his books, once again. 

The feast went as it always did; and it was always a feast. Fortunately this was a more private affair, of just the family, Thor’s bosom companions, and the most highly ranked of visiting courtiers. Vanaheim had sent two of theirs, this time-- Loki neither knew nor cared what their names were. His mind was back in his room, puzzling over the problem of getting things into the circle without allowing Steve out. Or, if it seemed he was disinclined or unable to harm Loki, as most spirits were, how to remove the circle but leave the lines of power unbroken, that he could move about without losing his form. 

So absorbed was he in his thoughts that he did not immediately realize that he was being spoken to. 

“ My apologies.” He said smoothly, only after a lull had developed. “My mind was elsewhere-- what did you say?” 

Frigga frowned.

“I was telling our guests how knowledgeable you are on the subject of Idunn’s orchard-- perhaps you might take them for a tour, after supper?”

Her brow raised with the implication that it was neither a suggestion nor a request, and Loki, unimpressed, fixed her with his most innocent and disappointed look. 

“ Would that I could, Mother. But you know that Idunn has forbidden my stepping foot on her soil again. Thor, however, is more than welcome there any time he likes-- perhaps he would make better company for the Vanir.” Loki nodded towards the guests in question with a charming smile and exactly the correct measure of deference due them by custom. 

Frigga frowned, but Thor, grinning, was already agreeing with Loki’s suggestion. 

“\--And after, I shall show you the forest glade, wherein our summer sports take place. If we are lucky, it may be a practice day for some of our athletes.” 

The conversation swung away from him, but his mother’s eyes didn’t, and they were narrowed with suspicion. 

 

Normally he would have jumped at the excuse to bypass Idunn’s warnings and pocket an apple or two. They were, after all, his favorite subjects of experimentation, what with all of the power they held within them. Neither Odin nor Idunn approved, but Frigga often found ways to slip him pieces of apple, or excuses to get him close. 

He had developed his sense of mischief from somewhere, after all. 

  
  


Still, his lack of interest had certainly garnered her attentions, and he would likely have to assuage her later. 

That could wait, though-- maybe by the time she came to him, he would have proper answers for her, rather than excited half certainties, which she could well squash out of motherly concern. 

  
  


He begged off soon after, citing a project that was time sensitive-- Odin would likely complain later, but before their guests, he simply glowered, clearly displeased with Loki’s lack of interest in the others at their table. 

Not that he could fault his politeness. Loki bowed, again, just low enough, and left, bread in his pocket. 

The more he thought about it, the less he thought that Steve would actually be ‘hungry’ per se, but the more curious he became as to whether he could interact with something physical. 

  
  


When he had closed the door to his rooms behind him, though, he forgot about that for the moment. 

  
  


Steve was swaying, flickering, and looked terrified, and the power that had been keeping him there was running obviously low. Before, when Loki had been talking to him, he’d moved and acted like a living being. Now he drifted in a way that had decidedly little to do with muscles, and seemed more like a leaf caught in an eddy-- which, Loki realized, was not entirely incorrect. Each of the stones, aligned in the circle, was sending small streams of energy to Steve’s form. And without the power necessary to hold himself in place, he was being pushed to and fro by the very energy keeping him… alive wasn’t the right word, but it certainly wasn’t wrong, either. 

But it wasn’t the uncanny motion of the man that froze Loki in his tracks. It was his face-- eyes wide and helpless, sliding around as though looking for a way out, and finally settling on him. But his jaw was locked, his lips pressed together so hard that it was difficult to tell if he still had a mouth. He looked like he was dying again, or afraid that he was… and he refused to ask for help. 

Loki’s heart lurched in his chest. His stomach dropped out as a particularly large flare happened, and that spurred him into immediate motion. He rushed forward.

“Hold on Steve, I’m sorry--”

  
  


Loki was glad he’d put a line to the power-- before he’d meant to use it to withdraw all of it, if needed. Now, it served as a funnel through which he could push more. 

He did so now, watching with no small amount of relief as Steve solidified more and more before his eyes. 

He didn’t say anything and his eyes remained wide, but his mouth relaxed, and Loki felt awful. 

“ I got delayed.” He tried explaining, wincing when it came out defensive. “We had visiting dignitaries and I didn’t even think-- It never occurred to me that the power available to you would wane with distance.” 

“ So what do you plan to do with me?” Steve asked, and Loki felt another shock of horror twisting through him, because he’d been hoping he would speak, say something, but now he almost wished he hadn’t. He still sounded scared, sounded resigned, and all Loki could think of was the thrashing he’d done the very first time that Loki pulled him into Asgard. 

“ I need to find out if I can… anchor you, somehow.” Loki spoke without thinking of the emotional consequences, his mind flying instantly to the magic and processes behind it, before he caught himself and looked Steve in the face, closer now than he had been before. 

“ I didn’t ask what you want, I’m sorry. I just thought-- being here is better than being in the nothing, right?” 

“ I don’t want to go back to it. I can’t explain-- I-- it feels…” Steve gave a whole body shudder that made Loki flinch, partially because of the implications and partially because it reminded him of the flickering and the flailing, and he didn’t want to see this spirit, this man, this sending, whatever it was, didn’t want to force him back into that position. 

“ Alright. Then I will need to see if there is any information on how to tie you to an artifact, an anchor. Again, I don’t know that it’s something that has been done before…” his words drifted off, and he was moving away, towards his books, letting his mind run away with the problem.

“ How did you bring me here?” Steve asked suddenly, and Loki’s head jerked back up and he turned back to look at the man. 

“That, well.” he pursed his lips. “That was an accident. I was experimenting, combining spells to create a new one, and it didn’t do what I wanted. It brought you, instead of giving me immediate access to all the information in a book.” He shrugged, trying to school his face into an expression of ‘you win some, you lose some’, as opposed to one of embarrassment. 

  
  


Steve snorted. 

“ And you think you’re qualified to  _ tie my soul _ to some random piece of junk you have laying around-- why?” 

Loki heard the challenge in his voice, but he also heard the fear that lay beneath it. Steve was shaken, clearly. 

“ Because as I said, if I told anyone else about you, I would be lectured for being too daring with my magic, and you would be destroyed, or banished, or… sent away. It does not leave you with many options. And besides--” he pointed out, not unfairly, he thought-- “You are filled with, perhaps made almost entirely out of, my magic, at this point. That is what gives you your form, keeps you here. I do not know how your shape would respond to anyone else’s magic, at this point.”

“ Seems to me like you’re dabbling in a lot of things you don’t understand.” Steve crossed his arms. 

“ And it sounds to me like you are distracting me from the research necessary to be sure we approach this casting from as educated a direction as possible, while simultaneously draining me of the resources I will need to create said casting.” Loki snapped. 

Steve grimaced and let his arms drop to his sides, then nodded. 

“ You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for helping me.” He did not sound disingenuous, but he also did not sound excited about any of it. 

Not that Loki could blame him. But it was hardly Loki’s fault that he was accidentally in charge of helping out this dead mortal. 

He paused, though, struck again by how Steve was just standing there, and aware that that was entirely Loki’s fault. 

“ Listen.” He said, “You know that you need my help. You know that you need those stones to give you power-- but they should have at least some distance available to them. If you will not try to harm me-- not that I am certain you  _ can _ , but if you will agree not to try, I will allow you out of the circle. It isn’t much, I realize, but--”

“ No, I’ll take it. Obviously I’m not going to hurt you, and I’d be… really happy not to be stuck in this exact spot.” The discomfort Steve felt at his current situation was obvious in his words. Loki nodded. 

“Alright.” He returned to where he’d been before and nudged the circle with his foot, disrupting the line of it. 

  
  


He watched as a slight hazy film between he and Steve fell away, and he was able to take in the details of the man a little better. 

He could make out the slight speckling now of freckles, see each of the lashes, longer than was strictly necessary, which framed Steve’s eyes. He was a very attractive man, or had been in life. 

With a mental shrug, Loki took a step backwards, aware he’d been looming while he stared.

“ I’m going to get to work. I assume you can find some way of amusing yourself.” He’d have to keep an eye on Steve, at least, he though, because he would want to know what he could interact with, and what he would do. 

Mortals rarely visited Asgard, and he did not know of any mortal who had come here post mortem. 

“ I’ll try not to distract you.” Steve told him. 

“Excellent.” Loki said, dismissive and with finality. 

  
  


This was an odd situation, and he hardly knew how to interact with this man. He treated Loki as if they were equals, and that would have grated at him, if he did not realize that he had no real grounds for complaint. But it also meant that he did not have the lines and rote of societal rules to fall back on. There were no scripts for this, no rules of interaction. 

Fortunately, he had plenty of books that he could busy himself with. 

He watched from the corner of his eye for a few minutes, while Steve took in his surroundings. 

“ You have three suns here?” He asked, from near the window, seeming to forget that he was meant not to distract, in his surprise. 

“ Four.” Loki made a point to seem like his mind was elsewhere, though he was keenly interested in the man’s impressions. “One has set already.” 

“ Huh.” He said, and went quiet, just staring out the window. 

Loki wondered if any would be able to make out his shape at a distance, but he did not think he cared. 

He began taking notes on how to create a focus, knowing that Steve would need his anchor not only to be a tie to the physical plane of Asgard, but also an energy source of its own. If it was something that Loki could expel power into for storage, it would render Steve far more portable than his current set up, where Loki walking away too far had before made him cease to exist, he could charge Steve’s focus like a battery-- or carry him with him, if he got the urge.

After that it was a matter of making the leap-- Steve was composed mainly of energy--

“ Can I draw on this?” Steve asked, and Loki blinked and looked up, to see Steve pointing at a sheaf of empty parchment sitting on one of Loki’s tables. 

“ If you  _ can _ , by all means.” Loki let his lip curl upwards and even from across the room he could see the faintest blush coloring Steve’s face, but again he seemed to take it as a challenge. 

He watched as Steve tried to lift a quill from its well, and his hand breezed through it. Internally, Loki exhaled with relief; that meant Steve could not harm him after all. 

He turned his attention back to his book, but had barely found his place again when he heard a slight cry from Steve-- 

  
  


\--and it was one of victory, it seemed, as he looked up and was able to see the quill through the spirit, as he began sketching out whatever it was he meant to capture. The movements were slow, hesitant, and Steve seemed to be very focused on it. But it  _ was _ moving. Steve was sitting at his desk, or-- sitting was, he supposed, the correct word, though he did not seem to be sitting  _ on _ anything. He’d missed the chair by at least a handspan, though his leg dangled through the middle of the seat, when it existed.

  
  


Loki’s stomach turned a little, but he did not comment. A quill, after all, was hardly a sword. Still, it did leave him with a slightly sour taste in his mouth. 

He would have to sleep sometime. He doubted Steve did. And then…

Better then that he get Steve properly tethered before bed. At least then he could ward Steve’s anchor, keep him contained.

He turned the work he had to do over and over in his mind, to the soundtrack of soft scratching and the occasional sound of nib against glass. He had no idea how much time passed, exactly, before he was satisfied, but once he was, he sat back and cleared his throat. 

  
  


“ Steve?” He asked, softly, because he did not want to startle the other man, and because his voice seemed so loud in the quiet of the room.

The quill immediately fell through Steve’s hands, and he made a small sound in his throat-- frustration, likely. 

Loki would have sympathized, but it ended up not being necessary. 

“ Did you find something?” Steve asked, and he sounded only curious, not at all upset by the image that Loki had no doubt ruined. 

“ I think I’m ready, actually. All we have to do is decide what it is you should be bonded to. You should help to make this decision. So you aren’t tied to some ‘random piece of junk.’”

Steve hesitated, looking around the room. 

“ I…” He started, then stopped. “What happens to me if it’s something… if someone steals the thing I’m… tied to? Or it breaks?” 

“ Then I cease to be able to charge it with power. The power dwindles, which is what you experienced before… and eventually, you would cease to be.” Loki shrugged, keeping his voice light. “Provided, of course, that the thief does not have their own power, with which to charge you.”

Steve frowned. 

“ Makes me sound like some sort of machine-- gotta be plugged in to work. And it means that… I have to stay with you. Probably long term.” 

“Yes.” Loki said, and it was odd, how uncomfortable he felt at the thought. How responsible that made him. 

He wanted to be King one day, so one would think he would have no problem being responsible for more lives than just his own, but that wasn’t the case here and now. He hardly even knew Steve. And it was perhaps different that it was one man, in such close quarters, rather than an entire kingdom at an arm’s length. 

But then, it wasn’t as though he’d  _ asked  _ to be summoned. 

“ I guess then it makes sense for it to be junk after all.” He said, and his joke and smile were thin. 

“ And it likely makes sense for it to be something that I can easily carry with me-- in case I have to travel, as is very likely, given that I work often as an emissary for my father.”

Steve frowned again. 

“ Let me ask you-- is this… this isn’t going to be too invasive, in your life, is it? I’ve lived, you know, I mean-- I already ran my own life. If this is going to take up too much of yours…” He trailed off. 

“ What would you have me do? Let you fade into nothing? I want you to understand, you are an accomplishment. Something I can be proud of; no one else has done this, so far as I have been able to find. A sorcerer with a companion spirit? That is something that others may come to respect, even fear.” 

“ So I’m what-- you’re going to use me as a dancing monkey? Something to show off? You expect me to put on some kind of show?” Steve seemed to take umbrage with that prospect.

“ Well I can hardly tote you out if you’re not willing to play along.” Loki mused. “But honestly even the reputation of your existence should do.” 

Steve scowled, then sighed. 

“ I guess it’s your magic going to be keeping me around, anyway. And you who has to carry whatever it is around.” 

It was Loki’s turn to frown. 

“ You can refuse anything you don’t like, you realize.”

“ I can’t refuse to be dead, but there’s nothing particularly likable about any of death, so far. I feel kind of cheated, to be honest. According to you at least, there’s still basically a heaven, basically a hell… I just don’t get to go to either. Even though there’re probably arguments to be made about be belonging to both. So.” He shrugged. It was quiet for a long moment.

“ I should at least try and get you settled with your anchor tonight. I would hate you to fall away while I was asleep.” Loki said softly, not sure how to approach Steve’s objection in the least.

“ What would you suggest, then? For it to be.”

Loki stood and pressed his fingers beneath his chin, thinking. 

“ What would you think of being bonded to a piece of jewelry? Metal makes for excellent energy storage, so I should be able to charge it for multiple days at a time, rather than the few hours that the stones we are using now allow.”

“ Is that safe?” Steve asked. Loki didn’t look at him, rummaging instead through the chest at the foot of his bed.

“ If it is something I can wear, I can also be certain that it is never apart from me, something innocuous, though-- ah!” He stood, holding up a ring, thin and plain, with a small green stone set into it. 

He slid it onto the middle finger of his left hand, checking the fit, and then removed it and held it out to Steve. 

“ What do you think?” 

Steve reached out to take it, unthinking, and his hand dipped straight through Loki’s in the process. 

Loki had to work to suppress a shudder, and the pin prick feeling where they would have touched, had he been alive, faded slowly while Steve looked chagrined. 

“ I mean, you’re the one who has to deal with it. If it works for you…”

Loki’s lips quirked upwards in a small smile. 

“ Not quite the ‘junk’ you were afraid of, I hope. The stone in this is said to be a seed from the first harvest, plucked from the stalks of Ymir’s hair by my uncle Vili. It is a priceless treasure-- and one with such history and notoriety that none would dare to steal it. No thief would never be able to sell it for its true value, without fear of retribution. I think it should provide a safe focus for you.” 

Steve looked duly impressed, and in fact almost hesitant. 

“ Are you sure you want to waste that on me, then?” He asked, and Loki snorted. 

“ No lasting damage will come to it. I think it will be fine.”

“ So how does this work?” Steve looked hesitant still, and Loki supposed he couldn’t blame him. 

“ I am going to charge it with some power-- almost all of what I have left to me this evening. And then I will pinch off the power that is keeping you here and tie it into the power in the ring. Then I will cast a binding, and with any luck, it should render you and it as the two halves of a contained power loop-- and I need only add to it when the supply dwindles.”

“ Alright.” Steve didn’t seem to understand, but he also did not seem as afraid as he could, which Loki was grateful for. It wasn’t as though he was to have an opportunity to practice this, after all. 

“ Alright.” He echoed. He looked around and began gathering his energies, pushing them into the ring. “Alright.” He said again. “Let’s get started. Perhaps move closer to the stones-- We’ll want to siphon the energy back out of them once you’re bound to the ring…”

It went as smoothly as possible, with only a slight hiccup in the moment when Steve was attached to two energy sources simultaneously, and he developed a more solid looking form-- more opaque, the colors in his skin and hair and-- norns, his eyes-- more vivid. But he also looked uncomfortable, and when he began to glow and began gritting his teeth, Loki quickly severed his connection to the stones. 

“ Sorry,” Loki mumbled. “Are you harmed?” 

“ I’m dead, I don’t think anything can do me much harm.” And if he sounded a little too jovial, it wasn’t as though Loki would discourage him, or call his bluff. 

“ True enough.” Was all he said, as he tied up the loose ends of the working. “That seems to be the last of it. How do you feel?” 

Steve shifted his shoulders, as though he expected to be unable to, then took a few steps away. 

“ Your range should be a little further, this way.” Loki told him. “You should be free to go anywhere within the same room, or possibly rooms. I’d ask that we wait to experiment until tomorrow, though-- my magical stores are low, and I wouldn’t be able to put it right if something were to go wrong.” 

“ Sensible,” Steve said, stepping back closer to Loki, even though he’d made it no more than a few feet away. “I feel fine-- as much as I can feel, now.” 

Loki’s attention perked up at that. 

“ Explain? You cannot feel?”

“Not… really? I guess maybe in a distant sort of way. When I was holding the pen earlier, I could feel it, but… like when you pick something up through a bunch of layers of cloth. You know you’re holding it, but you can’t really feel it, you don’t know how good your grip is, you have to concentrate a lot… that’s how it is.” 

Loki made a note of that, with scribbled instructions to himself to have Steve try lifting things imbued with energy, to see if he would be able to feel those more acutely.

“ And things like emotions? You’ve clearly been frustrated with me for at least half your time here.”

Steve had the good grace to duck his head. 

“I’m sorry, that’s not--” 

Loki waved it away. 

“ I am quite used to being the source of frustration for those around me. I apologize; my question was-- you feel emotions. Are they as they were, when you were alive?”

“ I… think?” Steve answered, his brow furrowed. “I get sad thinking about being dead, and I was excited and happy at finding I could still draw, and-- where are you going?”

Loki had stood suddenly and crossed the room, excited to see the art in question-- when he reached the desk, he sucked in a breath. 

“ I have to admit, I’d thought you a fighter based on your physique.” Loki lifted the paper and turned to face the man who had created the image. 

“ Yeah, well, I am. A fighter, yeah, but… I was an artist first. I don’t lose that just because I carry--  _ carried _ around a shield.” 

Loki inclined his head, granting Steve that. 

“ Clearly not-- your lines are exquisite. If you have no interest in politics and intimidation, you might find apprentices for your style among those of the Aesir more inclined to creation than destruction. We’ve nothing like this in Asgard-- at least not that I have seen.” 

Steve looked floored-- an interesting expression on him, given that his legs were not always visible. 

“ That’s not-- it isn’t even  _ good _ !” He said, sounding defensive, when he’d finally recovered. “That’s just-- I had to teach myself how to even hold the pen, let alone do anything with it.”

“ Then I look forward to seeing what you manage when you are more used to the process.” Loki spoke comfortably, smoothing over Steve’s objections. “You seem taken aback by my praise; I apologize if I’ve caused offense. Perhaps tomorrow I will show you some of the art of Asgard, that you may draw a comparison. I think you will see then-- it’s not meant as an insult.” 

“ No, I didn’t get-- I’m not offended or insulted or anything like that, I’m just… where I come from, I’m not even  _ good _ .” He still looked uncomfortable, but Loki could only shake his head. 

“ After we test some things, I will show you.” He promised. “I should perhaps attempt to sleep, though. Ah, do you--?”

“I don’t really feel tired, no. And I never got hungry, so I guess you can write that down, too.” Steve nodded at Loki’s notes, and Loki felt a little embarrassed at that, though he wasn’t sure why. 

“ Um, will it bother you if I draw? While you sleep?” Steve seemed hesitant, and Loki realized he had precious little else to do to distract himself. 

“ No, that should not be a problem. Ah-- Let me also lay out a book for you. If you can interact with a quill, you should also be able to turn the pages, if you want. Something about Asgard, perhaps, that you might learn of your new home?” 

Steve stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah, that-- would be useful, thanks. And the lights?” 

“ Bespelled, and part of the upkeep of Odin’s hall. They will not go out.” 

“And if I start to run out of energy?” He asked, and Loki shook his head. “There is thrice as much trapped in the ring now as the rocks could hold at any given time. You will not, tonight, and I will replenish it tomorrow. But, perhaps take notice of how you feel, and the demands you make. I imagine that solidifying your hand will require more of it, for when you are drawing, than otherwise. If you are aware, you may well be able to control your intake, so that in the event of an emergency you can cut back. Your legs, for example, are not always there. At some point I will help you find the very minimum that you need. For now though, I need to sleep.” And that was true-- his head felt odd, his sight beginning to swim from exhaustion. Major workings tired him faster than any other work he knew of, and bed seemed to beckon with a siren’s call he did not want to refuse.

Steve was looking down at his legs, confusion and no small amount of concern coloring his face, and Loki smiled, not unkindly. 

“ Take some time to become more accustomed to your form, now. It is new, I know, but better you are familiar with it, if we go out tomorrow.” 

“ Yeah, good call.” Steve said, though he sounded distant-- distracted. 

Satisfied with that, and certain that he would not be in any danger, he shucked his pants and tunic, ignoring the sounds of Steve hastily turning away, and climbed into his bed. 

“ Good night, Steve. If you need anything, you can always wake me. And… I don’t suppose I said before, but. Welcome to Asgard.”

It was quiet for a moment, then came, from beyond his bed, Steve’s voice and a faint, “Thanks.” 

He had to be satisfied with that.  
After all, the faint scratching sounds of quill on parchment were proof enough of all that he had accomplished that day. 

 


	2. Two

The day dawned beautifully, he was sure, as all days did in Asgard, but Loki was not awake to see it. It was not his way to rise before the smell of the midday meal had begun drifting through the halls, an hour in advance of its being served. And especially after a night like the one before, pushing his energy out of himself intentionally… he needed the rest.

 

Upon opening his eyes, he got the sense that this frustrated Steve, and that meant the day started with a Loki amused. 

 

“What’s the matter, have you finished the book I left you?” He asked, and Steve colored slightly, though Loki could not tell if it was from the way the blankets shifted when he stretched, or if he was upset by the fact that yes, in fact,  _ he had _ . 

 

“I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.” Steve said, clearly doing his best not to sound petulant and failing miserably. 

 

“ _ Four _ suns.” Loki all but groaned. 

 

“You slept for ages!”

 

“Yes, well, some of us are expending a good deal of energy, keeping others of us on this plane of existence.” He used his most logical voice to point this out. “At any rate, it isn’t my fault you cannot find ways of keeping yourself occupied. What good is your being here if you aren’t intending to do something with it?”

 

Steve backed off, turned away, got quiet, and Loki sat up and reached out as if to grab his arm, though his hand went straight through him. 

It left his fingers tingling, echoing with the faint ripples of a brush that wasn’t there. 

 

“You can be upset with me. I won’t take away this, what we’re doing with you, because you are upset at me. You have been frank with me, and you must continue to be. So few are.”

 

Steve had shrunken in on himself, the edges of his shoulders disappearing as he tried to make himself smaller, but  as he lifted his eyes from Loki’s failed touch to his face, he squared up, lifting his chin and dropping his shoulders down and back-- he looked defiant. He looked glorious. 

“I don’t know how long you’re going to want to keep this up.” He said. “I just want to see and do everything I can before you get bored of me. I know you need sleep, I’m just not used to not needing it, and it feels like a long time when I have no idea how much time I have left.” 

 

And it was frank, and it stung for it, but he could not fault Steve for his honesty. Especially when he’d asked for exactly that. Still, he shook his head, his expression rueful.

“You think so little of me. Do you suppose you are a plant I shall forget to water?”

 

“I don’t even hardly know you, so what’m I supposed to think? All you’ve talked about is how you do what you do, which sounds made up, and what you think I’m good for which… I’m probably not. I don’t like the idea of outliving my usefulness, or my chances of sticking around if I do.”

 

And there was his stubbornness, shining through brilliantly.  

 

“Again, in fairness, you won’t have outlived anything, per se. But I take your meaning. Let me make it clear to you, then: I am a prince. From the youngest of my years, I have been taught that my first responsibility is to the people who need me most, my subjects or, my servants, or my kin. I do not know which of these you may consider yourself, but that doesn’t matter; know I will not abandon you to the fates, not now that I have summoned and bound you here. You are my responsibility.” Loki looked Steve in the eyes, searching his face to be sure he understood the weight of the promise he had just made. “You are in my keeping. Under my protection. And I am the last person who will hurt you.”

 

Their eyes locked and a weight settled in the air between them. Loki didn’t know if it was actual power, the strength of the oath, or something else entirely, but it hung, suspended between them, until Steve broke it.

“Sorry.” He said, looking away, and Loki sighed. 

 

“I do not want your apologies; you have every reason to doubt. I only want you to believe me.” He was earnest, and finally Steve nodded. 

 

“Yeah, I do. I mean, I don’t have much choice, but I… want to trust you.” 

 

“You should. I do not renege on my word and anyone seeking to force me to will find themselves in a difficult spot-- I believe it’s treason, for most.” Loki smiled lazily. “Now, turn away or whatever it is that your propriety and modesty demands. I need to get dressed.”

 

Again, Steve could not  _ really _ color, but the impression of a flush was there, and that was enough for Loki. 

He dressed quickly and wandered into his bathroom to let out his water and slick his hair back. 

 

When he returned, Steve was brushing papers over his work of the night before, burying his drawings. Loki paused in the doorway, curious, then nodded. 

“After we eat, I will clear a drawer for you to keep things in. I will give you your privacy, with it-- if there is aught you do not wish me to see.” 

 

“It’s not a big deal…” Steve began, but then he stopped. “Thank you.” 

 

“And I believe I promised you a chance to see some Asgardian art, as well; if you would like, we can take the route through the galleries, on our way to the feasting hall.”

Loki picked up the ring that Steve was tied to and slipped it onto his finger. “If you are ready?” He asked, and Steve ran a hand over his hair while Loki watched.

 

“I mean, do I look presentable?” Steve asked, and Loki laughed. 

“You look very fetching, Steve. The women of Asgard will weep when they find they cannot touch you. Satisfied?”

 

“That wasn’t what I-- yeah, right, satisfied, let’s just… let’s go.” He had his hand pressed over his face, and Loki wished he could see the flush that must have been there, in such circumstances, when Steve yet lived.

 

Loki enjoyed flustering him, though he knew that Steve, like the rest of the palace, would doubtless soon develop an immunity to it.

Although, he reminded himself, unlike everyone else, Steve could not walk away, and might, for the moment, be too afraid to ask him to stop. 

Loki was no great fan of moderation, but it occurred to him that he may have to attempt to practice it. 

 

He closed the door behind him, and almost immediately, the reactions began. Two maids, finishing their cleaning duties across the hall, stopped where they stood.

 

“Master Loki, you’ve a…”

 

“Yes, this is Steve. Steve, these are Gaeira and Ljot, some of the maids of Asgard’s halls. Ladies, Steve is a dead Midgardian, and is my companion. You will treat him as such.” There was a stern warning in his voice, and he checked behind him to see how Steve took the introduction. He seemed ill at ease-- no doubt unused to being dead, as of yet, and perhaps discomforted by Loki’s flippant dismissal of the servants. 

Well, he would catch on soon enough. 

 

“Steve? This way.” Loki said, nodding, and led him through a door and down a different hall. 

 

“Can we maybe not specify that I’m dead? I feel like it’s implied by my being sort of see through.”

Steve asked, sounding a little impatient with him. 

 

“If you like, though it is a fair descriptor. You could, after all, be any number of flashy spell workings.”

Loki opened another door and gestured that Steve should precede him into the room. 

 

“This,” Loki announced with no little relish, “Is the gallery.”

 

Watching Steve’s eyes widen was rewarding, and Loki didn’t even try to pretend that he was at all interested by what the room held, besides Steve. 

 

“It’s so intricate!” Steve sounded enthusiastic, and Loki had to stifle a laugh when he moved closer to the wall, and then leaned in, and further still-- until the tip of his nose dipped into the stone. 

At Steve’s sheepish expression, while he reached up and rubbed at his nose, Loki couldn’t contain himself any longer, and his laughter shook throughout the tall narrow room. 

 

Of course, it was at this moment when Frigga and her attendants appeared. 

 

The echoes of his laughter had not yet faded when the troop drew to a stop, the handmaidens looking decidedly nervous at the sight of Steve. 

Frigga, however, just stepped forward, a small pleasant smile on her lips, but a slant to her brow that promised trouble for Loki. 

 

“I was told we would find you in here, with a new companion.” She turned her eye to Steve, and Loki could see the soldier swallowing. But Loki, at least, knew what was expected.

 

“Mother, allow me to introduce Steve. He is an artist and soldier, formerly of Midgard.” Loki spoke with all of the deference he would if they were in the hearing hall. 

“Steve, if I may, my mother. I present to you her majesty, Frigga, Queen of Asgard. Mother-- the pressing matter I had to attend to, last evening.” He gestured at Steve, a tiny quirk to the corner of his mouth. He was pleased with himself, and had good reason to be, he thought. 

 

“A pleasure to meet you, Steve. Though I must admit to some curiosity regarding your arrival on Asgard’s fair shores.” It was a command, a request for information, and her tone made that perfectly clear. 

 

Steve looked to Loki, but he knew that the question was meant for Steve. He nodded towards his mother, hoping that he would get the message. 

 

“Lo-- that is,  _ Prince _ Loki summoned me. I don’t know, exactly, where I was before then, but…” 

 

“I see.” Frigga’s glance toward her son was sharp, and Loki cringed a little under the weight of her gaze. 

 

“Well, you are welcome, Steve, formerly of Midgard. How long will you be staying with us?” She was gracious, but clearly uncertain about Loki’s new companion. It almost made him smile. 

She’d ever been protective. 

 

Steve didn’t remember himself in time, and he shrugged. 

“It’s up to Loki. He’s the one who tied me-- anchored me, I think he called it.”

 

“Ah.” She said, the sound short, but her eye drifting back towards her son. “In that case, after breakfast, I would like to see you--  _ both of you _ \-- in my study.” 

It was very obviously not a request.

 

Even so, Loki played the courtly role he knew was expected of him. 

“It would be our honor, mother.” He bowed slightly to her, and watched as she gathered her ladies and passed on by. 

 

“Are we in trouble?” Steve asked the moment she was clear, and Loki straightened up. 

 

“I doubt it. Not yet, at any rate. My mother is as great a sorcerer as I am. She is no doubt interested in the mechanics of the working… though she likely disapproves because you used the word ’summoned’, and generally that requires a good deal more security than she knows I tend to employ.”

 

“Is there another word I should use?” Steve asked, and Loki nearly laughed at his earnest distress. 

 

“I doubt very much it will matter; it’s my explanation she will be interested in. But come, let me show you the dining hall. You will love the structure itself, if not necessarily those within it.” 

 

He could see Steve starting to ask what he meant by that, but rather than answer, he began pushing the door to the hall open, and the noise which had been so effectively blocked came spilling out into the hallway. 

Steve stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, and then, to Loki’s surprise, he became a bit less solid.

 

“Steve?” Loki asked, stepping closer and feeling with his magic to be certain that he was supplying enough. 

Steve blinked and looked at him, then shook his head, solidifying. 

 

“Stage fright. Sorry. That’s… a lot of people, and the second we go in…” 

 

The moment they walked in, all eyes would be on them, Loki realized. 

 

“We may skip the meal, if you would like. I do not often eat in the hall. We can instead go to the kitchens and take food from there. Then you will only have to deal with the stares of the cooks and maids.” 

In fact, it may have been thoroughly unkind, not only to take him before the court at large, but also to eat in front of him, as it seemed likely that as he could not so much as touch Loki or the majority of things on this realm, he would probably be unable to consume them as well. 

 

But, Loki wondered, if he did, if he concentrated and firmed first hand, then mouth, then throat,  _ could _ he eat food? 

Or would it fall through him the moment he lost his concentration? Or worse, be entirely too solid within his form, causing discomfort?

 

He shook himself from those thoughts, though, at the sight of Steve drawing himself up, squaring his broad shoulders and firming his jaw.

“You’re a prince.” He said, in a voice deceptively soft despite all of that. “It’s going to have to happen sooner or later.”

 

Loki didn’t say that not all of the court would be here, that many rose late or had eaten earlier. He did not say that those who  _ were _ there would cause a wave of whispers throughout the palace. Steve would be with him, and they would hear of it together, when it happened. 

 

In the interim, he nodded. 

“Remember that you are the guest of the prince, and as such, you are instantly of more import than the majority of those within these walls. Only abstain from beginning any feuds you cannot fight, and there will be no harm to come of this.” 

 

Steve took a deep breath, and Loki heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, “Easy for you to say,” but this time when Loki stepped forward, Steve kept pace. 

The silence descended around them like night falling, and the whispers that rose in their wake made Loki’s smile a little self-satisfied, and a little grim. 

He glanced at Steve, but for all that he wore his mulishly stubborn expression, his discomfort and uncertainty was tucked neatly out of sight. 

 

Loki would have to help him, if he was to be part of this court, teach him to hide his feelings a little more thoroughly. For now, though, this would have to do.

 

They had reached the head table, and Loki bowed before the King. Before his father, as was required before those who were present. 

 

“Loki.” Odin greeted, though he managed to make his son’s name sound like a warning. “And Steve of Midgard, welcome.” It did not come off as particularly welcoming.

 

Beside him, Steve bowed, passing through Loki’s elbow in the process and drawing murmurs from the rest of those assembled there.

 

“Come, we will take our seats now.” Loki muttered to his companion, straightening and nodding once to his father- acknowledging, silently, his disapproval. But what could he say, with the visiting delegates in attendance? Loki could not help but feel smug, with the Alfather so effectively muzzled. He could not have planned this better, had he tried. 

 

A servant hurried before Loki to place a chair to the left of him. Loki sat to his mother’s left, and he felt fortunate, for the first time, not to be given a position of honor beside his father. Frigga, at least, understood subtlety- enough to warn Odin ahead of time, and enough not to spend the morning meal hissing accusations and questions under her breath at him. 

 

Steve settled in, employing his trick of relinquishing his legs, once the lack of them was hidden under the table. 

 

“I would advise you try only light things, if you intend to attempt eating.” Loki told him quietly. He gestured towards the nearest servant. 

“Fruit. Sweet curd cheese, and warm bread, please. For my companion and I both, unless-- was there anything else you had in mind?” He asked. 

Steve shook his head. 

 

“Pretty sure I don’t need food. I’m not…” hungry, Loki supposed. Or, perhaps, corporeal. Either way, fair enough. And better, perhaps, to try any such experiments in the privacy of his rooms. 

 

“Then for myself only. But… porridge. Hot enough to steam. With butter.” Even if he couldn’t eat it, the smell might be satisfying for him. And it would give him a somewhat more personable appearance. 

Which, he realized, may not be particularly necessary, considering how quickly Steve was drawn into conversation with one of the Vanir; a lady of their company was seated to Steve’s other side, and as Loki watched, she laughed-- charmed by whatever answer Steve had made. She reached out to touch his hand, no doubt the actual reasoning behind beginning the conversation at all, and stared as her own hand went right through it. 

Steve pulled away just the same, and stammered out an apology, but Loki leaned over-- careful not to lean  _ through  _ him in the process. 

 

“Lady, you must excuse my companion. He was, of late, a soldier and not a diplomat. He doesn’t know better than to seek contact with those around him. Particularly without their consent.” He stared her down until she lowered her head. 

 

“That is quite alright, Prince Loki.” She murmured. “There has been no offense here.” 

 

Loki made a soft humming sound, and Steve looked as if he wanted to object, but Loki silenced him with a quick glance and bit pointedly into the fruit that had arrived before him. 

 

He did not eat in the halls often, and when he did it was most often to make an appearance and several unkind observations. For as little as he generally ate, he managed to spend a lot of time doing it. 

This morning, though, he sped through his meal, wanting nothing more than to get enough and get out of there, and hoping he would have some time to just himself and Steve before meeting with his mother. 

But, as he rose, he saw her doing the same, and realized it was not to be. Her attendants made to join them, but she waved them off, and Loki offered her his arm, as was only proper if he was to act as his mother’s chaperone. 

“Walk behind she and I, at least until we get out of the hall,” Loki instructed under his breath to Steve. 

 

Fortunately, his mulishness did not seem to extend to courtly displays, because he fell in obediently behind them, the very picture of a companion for a Prince. 

“To your study, then, Mother?” Loki asked, altogether too brightly as the doors closed behind them. She shot him a reproachful look. 

 

“You are enjoying yourself perhaps too much, my son. Yes, to my study. And Steve, you may join us now; I realize such behaviors must seem incredibly foreign to you, but thank you for playing along just the same.”

 

Steve came to walk alongside Loki, and his face was screwed up in thought.

“Something troubling you, Steve?” Loki asked, and Steve huffed a sigh.

 

“I wanted to apologize, about the thing with Lady Gilrieth. I didn’t want you to think I had-- had  _ assaulted _ her or anything. She just reached out and--” 

 

Loki shook his head. 

“No, I was making a point that if you  _ had  _ touched her, it would be because you didn’t know better. She, on the other hand, most certainly does. It was a reminder for her to behave herself, couched in such a way that she could not draw offense from it.”

 

Frigga nodded, smiling. 

“I am hardly surprised that she was the first to attempt it, however,” she said, clearly trying to ease some of Steve’s distress, but enjoying herself in the process. “She seems to be petitioning to be allowed to stay here, and her plan seems to be to find a member of the court to conveniently fall in love with. You, as the newest member, and one so highly positioned, must seem an enticing prospect. Living or no.” 

 

Steve snorted. 

“Who woulda known that all I needed to do to get a date was die? My buddy back home would have found that hilarious.” 

He sounded more than a little melancholy, though, and Loki wished he could comfort him, but at least he could offer the next best thing: distraction. 

 

“Here we are. Mind the roots.” Frigga warned, though the caution was completely unnecessary. Steve would hardly trip over a plant. 

 

Still, as she opened the door, it was clear it was meant to serve more as a warning. Frigga’s study was not at all like Loki’s, nor anyone else in Asgard’s. 

The study was a room adjacent to both her chambers and the garden, and rather than keeping the garden out, it served to further allow it in, acting only as the barrier between garden and castle halls. 

Indeed, the very ceiling was made of vines, woven together tightly and so intricately that they formed mandalas that only the Allmother would have dared plan. The room felt like an extension of her, and Loki felt himself immediately relaxing. 

 

He released her arm and let her fetch a quill and a book to write in from one of the bookshelves made of tree limbs, before settling into a seat under a blooming floral arch.

 

“Now then. I want to know how it is Steve has come to be with us. What summoning spells did you use, what precautions, what bindings… and what are the circumstances on your side, Steve, that make your spirit so readily available for such use?”

 

Loki shrugged his apology to his companion and settled into a cross legged position on the floor to begin recounting the tale, or at least, what he knew of it. If any could help them to understand, it would be Frigga. 

And, he knew, as she worked to untangle the magical knots her younger son had woven, it was likely to be a long morning.


End file.
